I Want You to Want Me
by Griever11
Summary: "So that's Detective Beckett?" he asks Ryan, tilting his head towards the duo, now bickering about whatever is contained in the paper bag. "Doesn't she get along with her partner?" - My entry for the Rom Com Fic Challenge and also for the 2015 Castle Ficathon. Loosely based on the movie '10 Things I Hate About You', AU after 1x01.
1. Prologue

_Hi everyone, Happy CastleFanficMonday! This is me attempting the Castle Ficathon this year and also my rom com au fic based on 10 Things I Hate About You. While it may not seem like it at first, this will primarily be Caskett with a little smattering of Esplainie in between. Hope you enjoy this!_

* * *

 **PROLOGUE**

* * *

Detective Javier Esposito steps off the elevator with his head held high, nodding at the uniforms he passes by on the way to the bull pen. It's his first day with the 12th and he wants to make a good impression. He's far from being a rookie, but he knows that transfers like himself more often than not have a harder time falling into an already established rhythm and he wants to make things as easy as possible for himself. He's going to start by being friendly. That's never hurt anyone before.

"You must be Detective Esposito!"

He startles and turns around, coming face to face with another detective who seems to be all smiles and overflowing with exuberance. The detective looks young, but he knows better than to judge a book by its cover. The other detective holds out his hand and Esposito can feel the subtle strength in his grip as they shake hands. His gaze is welcoming but there's a steely glint in his eyes that he recognises; the horrors that they encounter as detectives often leave unmistakeable traces behind and he sees this in Ryan. Yeah, he might look young, but he's definitely not someone who should be underestimated.

"Hey, yeah. Javier Esposito, transfer from the 54th. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm great. Super. I'm Kevin Ryan, your new partner. Welcome to the 12th! We're excited to have you here, homicide's been pretty shorthanded since McNulty left. I'll show you to your desk."

Esposito nods and follows him, taking in the new bullpen he's soon going to call home. It's a little homier than his last precinct and he decides he likes it. The wood paneling along the walls are in stark contrast to the glaring white walls at the 54th; warmer and more inviting. There's a large whiteboard in the middle of bullpen, a timeline drawn through the middle of it with photos of suspects stuck over it, notes hastily scrawled around them. He skims the board and oh- flowers arranged over the vic's body? Kinky.

He's heard the rumours about the precinct's main homicide team, about how they attract the really good cases; the ones that are on the ... _interesting_ side of weird and gruesome. They also have one of the highest case closure rates in the city and it's part of the reason he pushed for the transfer. And the other part - well, he doesn't want to think about it. He needs to get over his past, to get over Ike and start fresh. In any case, his stint in the 54th's robbery division had been invaluable and he's learned plenty during his time there, but homicide's a whole new ball game.

They arrive at a desk in the middle of the bullpen and he nearly runs into Ryan when he stops in his tracks. "So this is your desk and mine's right here. We'll be in Beckett's team by the way. I'll introduce you when she comes back from lunch."

"Sure, bro." He sets his bag on the desk and nods towards the murder board. "Good case?"

"Really good. We just solved it, in fact. Serial murderer based his murders on a couple of books by this guy, Richard Castle. He's based here in New York, so we got him in to consult with us for a bit, turns out the guy's pretty switched on and we closed it with his help."

Esposito deflates, can't help but feel a little disappointed that he's missed out on the case but he's also put out by the fact that the team needed some second rate author to help them close the case. Maybe the rumours weren't true. Maybe the team wasn't as formidable as he thought it was. He's about to ask Ryan more about his team when he's distracted by a woman walking into the bullpen.

She struts across the room holding a large folder in one hand, hair as dark as ebony cascading down her back. She glances around before eventually noticing Ryan and starts to make her way towards them. She's wearing a lab coat over her clothes, but Esposito can tell she has an amazing body under baggy white material. She cocks an eyebrow at him as she approaches the pair of them and turns to Ryan when she's close enough.

"So this is the fresh meat?"

Ryan nods. "This is Detective Javier Esposito, transfer from the 54th. Esposito, this is Doctor Lanie Parish, Medical Examiner at the OCME."

"It is such a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Parish." Esposito bestows what he thinks is his most charming smile at the doctor and extends his hand to shake hers. She eyes it for a moment but takes it anyway, giving it a firm shake before sliding it slowly out of his grasp. The contact is brief but the silky smooth glide of her skin over his is positively mesmerising. He eases himself onto the corner of the desk, tries to mask his captivation with an air of nonchalance.

"Well, nice to meet you too, Detective," she says, the corner of her lips rising up in a sly smirk. She doesn't hide the way she takes him in, her eyes tracking downwards, devouring. " _Very_ nice."

Ryan clears his throat, breaking the spell and Esposito turns to him indignantly. He's annoyed and a little frustrated at Ryan - had it not been obvious they were having a moment? He looks back at Lanie, eyebrows raised sheepishly but the moment's clearly gone and the woman is back to being all business, the playful tone in her voice disappearing as she hands him the folder in her hand.

"Can you give these to Beckett when you see her? She'll need them for her final report."

Esposito completely misses Ryan's response, he's too busy cataloging the way the doctor's curves are accentuated by the dress she's wearing under the lab coat, how the hem stops just above the knee, enough to be work appropriate and yet still short enough to tease. Before he knows it, the legs he's not so subtly ogling start moving away and he panics, slipping off the edge of the table in an attempt to catch up to her retreating back.

"Okay, you don't want to do that." Ryan snags his sleeve, preventing him from further movement. "She's off limits."

Esposito sputters incredulously. Seriously? Who _was_ this guy? Telling him he can't – well, _excuse_ him. "Where do you get off telling me what I can and cannot do, bro?"

Ryan rolls his eyes, folding his arms in front of him. "I'm just watching out for you. Lanie's …" Ryan trails off and points a finger at a closed door across the room, with the word 'Captain Montgomery' etched on the glass paneling. "She's the Captain's daughter."

* * *

Esposito spends the next half an hour sulking at his desk, filling out the final pages of the transfer paperwork he has to turn into Human Resources. Ryan grins smugly at him from the other side, his face etched with delight, no doubt relishing at the thought of being able to stall his advances with Lanie.

He's about to sign the last dotted line on his stack of papers when a commotion causes him to pause and look up. A tall, striking woman stalks into the precinct as if she's on a mission, her ridiculously high heeled boots clacking rhythmically against the hardwood floors. The other cops scurry away from her like the red sea parting for Moses as she marches into the bullpen. The frown on her face looks permanent and there's a vein on her forehead that pulses angrily as she approaches a desk in the middle of the room.

Esposito watches with interest from his desk as she shrugs off her coat and flings it over the back of her chair, slamming her cell phone down on the table. She closes her eyes, head tipping slightly backwards as if she's praying to a higher power for some sort of reprieve from the day. "Castle!" she barks out, her voice ringing through bullpen.

Another man skids noisily into the bullpen, his sports jacket flying behind him as he hurries to her. He holds up a paper bag and waves it in front of her face. "Sorry, Beckett, sorry! Valesquez wanted to chat and I couldn't say no. Here, everything's here, I promise."

 _Beckett?_

The angry brunette with the freezing glare currently chewing out the other guy is his _boss_? That tall, leggy, gorgeous detective is meant to be his team leader? She looks more like a supermodel than a cop- not that he's complaining. Between the ME who dropped by earlier and this Detective Beckett, he's definitely struck gold in terms of eye candy. He can totally get behind that.

"So that's Detective Beckett?" he asks Ryan, tilting his head towards the duo, now bickering about whatever is contained in the paper bag. "Doesn't she get along with her partner?"

Ryan chuckles, shaking his head as he also watches in amusement while Beckett argues vehemently with the man in hushed whispers, jabbing at the paper bag as if it's personally offended her. "Yes, that's Beckett, don't let her looks fool you. She's amazing at what she does, best I've ever seen - but Castle's definitely not her partner. He's the writer I told you about before."

"The one who helped with the case?" Esposito clarifies, eyes darting quickly to the murder board, and then back to Castle who's now whimpering by Beckett's desk, contorted sideways as Beckett's fingers stretch out, twisting his ear. "Seriously, bro?"

Ryan smirks and nods. "Yeah, somehow he managed to convince the Captain to let him shadow Beckett for a while." He turns around in time to see Castle crash into his chair, massaging his ears. "Wanna guess how _that's_ working out?"

Esposito leans back on his chair, twirling his pen between his fingers as he takes in what his new partner has just told him. He's barely even had half a day at his new job and it's already turning out to be _very_ interesting. His boss is a kickass detective rock star, her pseudo-partner is more likely than not going to be a ball of laughs and his own partner seems to be able to hold his own. He thinks he might actually like it here at the new precinct.

His eyes fall to the folder he's meant to be handing off to Beckett and he's reminded of Lanie, her sinfully soft dark skin, sleek black hair and he can't help but still feel a little disgruntled about his ruined moment from before. So what if she's the Captain's daughter? That might mean she's off limits to other people, but Javier Esposito is nothing like _other people_ and he sure isn't going to let that stand in the way of potential romance. Anyway, if that Castle guy managed to convince the Captain to let him follow his top detective around, how bad can he really be?

* * *

 _Thanks for all your help, Alex!_


	2. One

_Thank you for the reviews, follows and favourites for the last chapter!_

* * *

 **1\. I Hate the Way You Talk To Me and the Way You Cut Your Hair**

* * *

Richard Castle is extremely bored.

Beckett is refusing to speak to him and the rest of her homicide team are out getting lunch. They weren't currently working a case and he'd hoped that with the boys away, he'd be able to spend some time with Beckett, maybe get to know her a little better - strictly for research purposes of course - but so far, he's been out of luck. She'd declined to answer any of his more personal questions and had directed him to the NYPD handbook for his other procedure related ones.

He exhales and leans back in his chair, wincing as something digs into his left ass cheek, stabbing him as he tries to make himself comfortable. If he'd known that Beckett was just going to sit at her desk and complete paperwork all afternoon, he'd have offered to grab some food with Ryan and Esposito. Instead, he's now stuck at the precinct until they both return with his order.

He's hungry and it only serves to make him crankier, especially since Beckett is hell bent on pretending he doesn't exist, ignoring his exaggerated groan as he slumps further in his chair to catch her attention. He turns to her and tries his luck again for the umpteenth time that day. "Are you really going to just write reports all afternoon, Beckett?"

She raises her hand to her temple, delicate fingers massaging her temple in frustration. Castle wrinkles his nose at her actions - seriously, it's a legitimate question, why is she so cranky about it?

"Yes, Castle. We have no case, so this is what I do. If I'm boring you, you're free to go home. No one's going to miss you here."

Castle grunts in irritation, body listing forward as he runs his fingers through his hair. Detective Kate Beckett is hands down the most uptight and exasperating person he's met in his entire life. Sure, he's seen a glimpse of it during their first case with the copycat murderer but a part of him really thought there was another side, a more … _fun_ side to her. He's been shadowing her for a full week now, and he's starting to think that maybe Beckett's never actually heard of the word 'fun' before.

Her body radiates tension all day, even when she isn't preoccupied with solving a case. She snaps at everything he does, the vein between her eyebrows a constant presence when she's interacting with him. He's not sure what he's done to deserve her wrath and he keeps looking for different ways to lighten the mood but not once has she laughed at his jokes. Instead, his ear is probably permanently bent out of shape from her constant twisting and god, his nose - his nose is still hurting from when she pinched it as punishment for standing too close to her in the break room a couple of days ago.

Still, despite the damage his ears and nose have endured, he can't deny that he's getting a lot of great material for his book. He already knows he's going to base it on her, although he hasn't told her yet - he wants to give his appendages some time to heal first - and his time with the 12th is proving to be invaluable, regardless of Beckett's reluctance to help him.

He's getting an up close and personal look at police procedure, suspect apprehending, being on a case right from the start to finish and it's the kind of experience even shadowing CIA agents hadn't been able to give him. He goes home each night and surprises himself with the amount of writing he manages to get done, inspiration fuelling him into the late hours of the night. He doesn't even know if any of it will make it into the final draft, but he keeps writing anyway. As an added bonus, he's getting along very well with the rest of her team, something he's immensely thankful for. Ryan and his new partner seemed to welcome his presence, and had _really_ warmed up to him when they found out he has a Ferrari he's not opposed to parting with during the weekends. It's a lot more than he can say about Beckett and for that, he's grateful.

He gives the detective beside him another furtive glance, casting a cautious gaze over the sleek contours of her face, riveted by the way she's engrossed in the report she's writing. He's enraptured by her dedication, captivated by the way she gives it her full attention, even if she's only doing menial paperwork. He's been fascinated by her since the day they met, and since he has absolutely nothing to do but wait for his lunch, he settles for staring at her, drinking her in.

She's beautiful, there's no doubt about that; her eyes are magical, sea green, sometimes with a hint of hazel when she's in a mood. It's a shame she hides it behind her no-nonsense attitude, a bad temper and the permanent scowl on her face. The short strands of her hair that she keeps tucked behind her ears accentuate the sharp angles of her cheekbones, her strong jawline and she's so _tall_ , she could have easily been a model.

She's also insanely smart - something he finds refreshing and _very_ attractive - and it shows when she puts together bits and pieces of a case so damn quickly. She's a force to be reckoned with when she corners a suspect in interrogation even the rest of her team seem content to let her take the lead whenever they need a confession. Safe to say, Detective Kate Beckett is the most intriguing person he's met in his life and he's desperate for her story. His heart clamours to know why she's doing what she's doing and he's becoming extremely frustrated at the fact that he's getting absolutely _nowhere_ with her.

"Take a picture, Castle. It'll last longer."

Castle startles and falls back against the back of his chair. Her voice cuts through the relative silence of the bullpen and he turns in his seat to face her, a clever response ready on the tip of his tongue. He falters when he realises she's not actually looking at him, making a point to keep pretending he's not sitting next to her bored out of his mind. She's still focused on the paperwork in front of her and he wonders for a quick moment that if she's been working diligently on her paperwork, how exactly she knows he was staring at her.

"You know Beckett, if you'd just talk to me, it'll reduce the creepy staring, I promise."

Her eyebrows furrow, a clear sign of her displeasure. She finally turns to him, glaring daggers at him but whatever she's about to say dies on her lips as she hears the rest of her team return from lunch. Ryan and Esposito trudge into the bullpen, high fiving the other detectives as return to their desks, arguing loudly about something sports related before they pull their chairs back and settle at their respective desks.

"Anything pop up while we were gone, boss?" Esposito calls out, grinning as he lobs a crumpled paper bag in Castle's direction. "Food's here, Castle!"

Beckett shakes her head, smirking as the ball of paper makes contact with Castle's forehead and bounces onto her desk. Slightly annoyed, Castle plucks the paper ball off her desk and tosses it into her trash can. "I'm going to go get my hot dog and hang out with Ryan and Esposito."

Beckett shrugs nonchalantly. "I'm not your mother, do whatever you want. It's what you normally do."

He gives her one last withering look and makes his way to the boys. They pay no attention to him as he approaches and he overhears snippets of their ongoing conversation, making out words like _date_ and _no way_ , and _out of your league_. His curiosity is instantly piqued and he plants himself on the edge of Ryan's desk, eager to participate in their little tête-à-tête.

"Who's out of whose league?"

His question is met with identical blank stares and feigned innocence from the two detectives. He sighs and rolls his eyes at them. "Come on, guys. You can talk to me, it'll be our little secret!"

He holds Ryan's gaze, unblinking, and eventually the younger man caves, his eyes flitting to the side as if he needs Esposito's permission to proceed. Castle sees the tiny nod from the other detective and crows in delight, sinking down into the empty chair next to Ryan's desk, grinning expectantly. It may not be the kind of information he needs for his book research, but this is good too. He's building rapport with the team, fitting in, and anyway - he casts a sidelong glance to Beckett, still hunched over her desk, the short fringe of her page boy styled hair falling over her forehead as she works away - _these_ detectives don't seem to hate him as much as she does.

"Esposito thinks he has a chance with Lanie, the M.E," Ryan says in a hushed whisper as the three of them huddle closer over the joined desks. Ryan tilts his head pointedly at Esposito. "But he really doesn't because one, she's got standards, and two, she's Montgomery's stepdaughter. There's no way that's going to end well for him."

"Ryan, bro? I _am_ the standard," Esposito scoffs. "And you know she was checkin' me out when we met, so just you wait."

Castle eyes Esposito critically and gives him an exaggerated once over. "No, I think Ryan's right. You have no chance with Lanie. Don't forget, I know her. Montgomery and I go way back, and I've seen the guys Lanie's into. She's a classy woman, and you … you're a little rough around the edges, unlike me. _Please_." He folds his arms behind his head, leaning into the back of his chair. He knows he's being mean. He doesn't actually know Lanie that well, but he drinks in the enjoyment of seeing the indignant look on Esposito's face, the Hispanic man sputtering incredulously.

"Oh, you think you're so great? You couldn't get a lady like Lanie even if you tried your best. Those blonde bimbettes hanging off your arm every weekend do not count. Have you even been in a relationship with a woman of substance? A _real_ woman not after your fame and fortune?"

Castle rolls his eyes at Esposito, but something the detective says strikes a nerve within him and suddenly the harmless teasing doesn't seem so harmless anymore. He flashes back to his time with Kyra, how she left him to pick up the pieces of his broken heart alone. He's tried real, and real had hurt him. The women who turn up at his publicity events were fun and uncomplicated, with zero potential for any hurting to occur.

"I _have_ done real, thank you very much," he retorts but knows it's a weak response the moment the words come out, the words falling flat upon leaving his lips. He's suddenly acutely aware of the shit-eating grins on both the detectives' faces and a chilling dread creeps up his spine. "What now?"

"I … have a proposition for you," Esposito drawls, his narrowed eyes fixed on him. Ryan nods, but remains silent and Castle will swear under oath the two of them share some sort of telepathic link that allows them to communicate without words. "If you're … _man enough_ for it, that is."

Castle groans inwardly and sighs. There's no way he can back down now, not when his manhood is in question. "What kind of proposition? What kind of trouble are you going to get me into now?"

Esposito leans in conspiratorially, fingers clasped together on the desk. "I bet," he pauses for effect. "That you can't actually date a real woman. I bet five hundred bucks-"

Ryan interjects with a startled gasp at Esposito's offer but says nothing, although Castle detects a hint of apprehension on his face.

"-that you cannot find, and be in a relationship, with a real woman by … by the NYPD Charity Ball next month."

Castle shakes his head disbelievingly at Esposito. "Are you serious? That is the stupidest bet I've heard in my entire life! I don't need your money, and what is real anyway? That's _completely_ subjective, and where will I find a woman like that and convince her to date me in a month? Are you kidding me, guys? I am all over Page Six, I can't just-"

"Are you chicken, Castle?"

" _No_ , I am not chicken, what are you, twelve?"

"Then take the bet. Take it, Castle, and if you lose, you'll have to put in a good word for me with Montgomery and Lanie. Both." Esposito drawls as he sits back, eyebrows raised, lips split in a wide grin.

Castle turns to Ryan gaping, hoping he'll somehow see the ridiculousness in the situation. To his dismay, Ryan's also smirking at him, hands folded over his chest, feet tapping impatiently on the ground. "Ryan, c'mon, seriously?"

"I just want to see if you're really as good as you say you are, that's all."

"Okay, say I take this bet, what constitutes a real woman? A lawyer? A doctor? A teacher?" He pauses and turns to Esposito, irritation bleeding from his eyes. "A _medical examiner_?"

"Wait - _no_ , Lanie's off limits, bro."

"Then who-"

"If you boys are done braiding each other's hair over there, we have a crime scene to get to."

All three men turn towards Beckett, slightly disconcerted by her sudden interruption. She stands up from her desk and glowers at the three of them in annoyance as she slips her arms into her jacket. "Do I have something on my face?"

Oh. No.

 _No way._

Castle looks back at Ryan and Esposito and they're wearing the same smug grins on their faces. He knows what's coming next, knows it the moment he turned around to face them. They nod once at each other and raise their eyebrows, comically in sync, and together chorus a single world.

" _Her."_

* * *

 _And again, a million thanks to Alex (both of you) - much love!_

 _Twitter: estheryam  
Tumblr: griever11_


	3. Two

**2\. I Hate the Way You Drive My Car, and the Way You Like to Stare**

* * *

It starts with her morning coffee.

Beckett usually gets her morning fix when she arrives at the precinct, grits her teeth through the disgusting thin liquid, hoping the caffeine will tide her over until lunch when she goes out to get a real coffee. But on Monday morning, as she dumps her bag on the floor by her desk, there's a grande cup of coffee from her favorite café waiting for her among the mountains of paperwork she'd left untouched from the week before.

She asks the uniforms milling about if they'd seen anyone drop by earlier that morning but they merely shrug at her question and she comes up empty. Bringing the cup to her lips, she takes a cautious sip. The coffee's decadent and she hasn't keeled over from being poisoned so she thinks nothing of it for the rest of the day, and forgets about finding out who left it there.

The same thing happens the next day and her Beckett senses start tingling. She eyes the lone coffee cup with suspicion, stares at it as she drops into her seat and folds her arms over her chest. She inches her chair forward, drags her shoes against the hardwood floors.

It's the same cup of coffee, the same brown paper zarf around the middle adorned with the familiar green loop of the café's logo. The call of the caffeine is too strong, an invisible string drawing her toward the still warm cup, steam curling through the hole on the plastic cover.

This time, while it's the same cup of coffee that sits pretty on her desk, she notices there's also a crisp white paper bag next to it. Her eyes narrow at the items, mistrust coloring her gaze. Beckett wraps her fingers around the to-go cup and breathes in the smell of the dark roast before she gulps down a mouthful.

She doesn't know who's responsible for her early morning treat yet, but as the bittersweet liquid sluices down her throat, she can't find it in herself to care. Whoever it is, she's immensely grateful - albeit a little wary about how they knew her exact coffee order - for the early morning pick me up.

She sighs as she pulls another sip from the cup, luxuriates in the aroma and taste on her tongue as she places the cup back on her desk. She picks up the paper bag and peers inside, heart skipping a beat as she sees the sugar glazed bear claw. Stomach rumbling, she pulls out the pastry and bites into it. Oh, delicious, sweet morsel of-

"Hello, Beckett! Make anyone cry today?"

Beckett jumps and she nearly spits out the tiny bite she'd just taken. _Him?_ No way. She turns toward his voice and glares at one Richard Castle, sauntering to her desk with a slight skip in his step. He's so smug, grinning at her as if he'd done the entire world a favor and God, does she just want to punch the silly smile off his face.

"Sadly, no. But it's only eight thirty," she mutters under her breath. She returns the bear claw to the bag it came from, glaring at it as if it's offended her somehow. She picks up a few folders on her desk, reshuffles them in her hands, pointedly ignoring the man looming over her desk. "What do you want, Castle?"

He steps around the desk and removes his coat, folding it over his arm. Her eyes dart to the side, tracking his movements in her peripheral vision and her heart sinks when he invites himself into her personal space, pulling out the chair next to her desk and settling in.

"I see you found my presents!"

She groans but gives him a reluctant nod. She's not a complete monster, she still has the decency to acknowledge a kind gesture when she sees it. "Yes, I did."

"C'mon Beckett! Not even a thank you? I mean, I've saved you from the horrible excuse you people call 'coffee' two days in a row now, can't I at least get a smile?" He leans forward, elbows folded on the edge of her desk, eyebrows waggling. "I've had to run off to meetings the last couple of days, but I'm here now, and you can thank me … properly."

Beckett snorts and eventually relents, turning to the writer. "You may have been able to charm your way into the precinct, buttered up Montgomery into letting you stay, but don't you think that a couple of well-timed coffees and a bear claw will make me…" she pauses, narrowing her eyes at him, "… _like_ you."

Castle beams, toothy and bright eyed. He sidles closer, chair screeching against the floor. He nudges her coffee closer to her, fingers pushing the cup toward her elbow. "C'mon, I even got your order right, I _know_ I did. Skim latte, two pumps sugar free vanilla?"

She huffs, a heavy sigh escaping her mouth before she accepts the cup of coffee, unable to resist the pull of caffeine. "I don't know which one of _them-_ ," she cocks her head at the two other detectives on her team, who are trying hard to pretend they're not listening in on her conversation. She raises her voice, "-told you my coffee order, but they're going to find that a lot of paperwork needs to be completed before they head home tonight."

Ryan and Esposito duck away at her statement, not so subtly retreating from the bullpen to take refuge in the break room. Shaking her head, she smirks at their backs as they busy themselves with making their own coffee.

She turns back to Castle, now lounging in his chair – no wait, not _his_ , the – chair, playing with something on his phone. "Well, we don't have a case, so thank you for breakfast but you do not have to be here today."

Castle sighs, slips his phone into his pants pocket and leans forward. His usually immaculate hair flops over his forehead, and for the first time that day, she notices that he looks a little different from his usual impeccable self. He's unshaven, stubble growing evenly along his jaw and it makes him look a little dangerous. More handsome compared to the boyish good looks she's more accustomed to.

She likes it.

God, if he knew just how much his scruff is doing it for her, he'll never let her live it down. She tamps down the surge of want, reminds herself that while the man sitting before her might be her favorite author, he's still the same annoying pest who's forced himself into her life. It doesn't matter if he pulls off the mischievous, roguish look so well – she's not ever going to cross that line.

Castle keeps staring, fingers drumming against her desk, an infuriating smile on his face. After a few minutes, she relents and turns to him. Her hand clamps down on his fingers, flattens them against the wooden surface and she smirks at the resulting yelp from the writer.

"Beckett, my fingers are my livelihood, c'mon!" he whines, wrestling his hand from under hers. He glares at her but his pointed stare bears no weight and she sniggers. That'll teach him.

"Well, what are you doing here then, what did you need to bribe me for?"

Castle peers at her, wide eyed with false innocence. He tucks his hands away on his lap, as far away from her as possible. " _Bribe_? What, no…"

He clears his throat and slides the paper bag with the half eaten bear claw toward her. "It's just breakfast, Beckett. The most important meal of the day, so I've been told. I'm just looking out for you. You keep our streets safe from evil murderers, I keep you safe from starvation. Why can't you appreciate that?"

She battles the groan that threatens to erupt from her lips, no patience whatsoever for the melodrama from the writer. The bear claw tempts her, peeking out from the paper bag, mouth-watering and sweet-smelling. Castle though, hovering over the bag with the most shit-eating grin on his face makes her think twice about it and she turns back to her paperwork.

"I'm not hungry."

He sputters in disbelief next to her, but lets the matter rest much to her relief. He settles back into the rickety, old chair and occupies himself with his phone. Beckett crosses her fingers, wonders if he'll get bored and bother Ryan and Esposito instead – or, better yet, just leave altogether.

"Hey, Beckett?"

Ah, no such luck.

Beckett drops her pen and sends him a withering look in hopes that whatever he wants to say dies on his lips. Unfortunately for her, it has the opposite effect on him and his face lights up at her attention.

"The boys," he nods, tilting his head at Ryan and Esposito's desks. "-tell me you're into Chinese food, crime novels, angry girl music of the indie rock persuasion and I have something for you."

Beckett groans, irritation and annoyance rising as she slowly turns her head to her colleagues. Backstabbers. Horrible, annoying backstabbers. She blames Esposito, the new guy – Ryan's always been a sweetheart, but since Esposito transferred onto her team they've both been as thick as thieves, mischievous and downright insufferable when they put their minds to it.

Two days ago they'd cornered her in the break room and grilled her on her lack of a social life, asked if she was dating anyone, if she had any 'fun' at all during her downtime. Part of her had been touched at their concern, but mostly she'd been annoyed at their prying and sent them back to their desks with a displeased grunt and a mental note to distribute her paperwork between the two of them the next time they solved a case.

It seems however, as she studies Castle's expectant face, that they've managed to recruit the writer into their little project and this is him doing his part on their behalf. Still, the way his eyebrows are furrowed and the glimmer of hope in his eyes softens her resolve and she concedes.

"What kind of something?"

Castle gasps and his mouth falls open in an 'O' of delight when it hits him that she's not completely shutting him down. "Um," he begins, but falters as his hands dig into his jacket pockets, searching for something. "Aha!"

He fishes out a pile of rectangle bits of paper and spreads them out on her desk, proud and eager. "Through my extensive network of contacts, I've managed to score five tickets to the Pearl Jam showcase this weekend and while it may not be the ' _angry girl music'_ you prefer, would you be interested at all in going?

Beckett holds her breath, tries to control the shiver of excitement rippling through her body as she scans the tickets before her. Pearl Jam.

 _Pearl Jam._

She grew up with their music, the emotional ties to the band's songs pulling at her heart strings as she remembers the singalongs with her parents, belting out the words to the songs on their ride up to the family cabin. Remembers the rush of adrenaline as she jimmied the lock on their tour bus, eventually breaking in and –

Huh. Well, she shouldn't be thinking about _that_ in the precinct.

Good times, and bad. The band's been so monumental in shaping her youth and even though Castle would have had no idea whatsoever about how much the band means to her, her heart thuds beneath her chest, walls around them softening with every excited beat against her ribcage.

Beneath the arrogance he carries with him every day, Castle seems to be a sweet man and even though she's still suspicious about his motives, she can't turn the tickets down.

"Um, thank you," she says, avoiding his gaze. She gathers the tickets and flips through them. "I'm assuming these are for the boys too? And … you?"

"Yes, and Alexis, if you guys don't mind."

Sometimes she forgets he has a daughter, but whenever he brings her up, his face brightens, cheeks lifts up in a smile every time he speaks of her. He's such an enigma, annoying and such a pain in the ass but when it comes to Alexis, he seems to be a very doting father and it warms her insides to know this about him.

"Castle, you got us the tickets, I don't see why Alexis can't come."

He smiles, genuine this time, no hint of smugness as if he's sincerely happy she's agreed to it. It strikes her odd that he'd been so nervous about asking her, going so far as to bring her breakfast to soften her up first, but she shrugs it off.

Beckett hands him the tickets and caves, allows a hint of a smile to play on her lips.

It's not that big a deal anyway. It's not like they're going to the concert alone, like a ... _date_. She snarls at the thought. Most definitely _not_ a date. The boys will be there, and so will his daughter.

How bad could it be?

* * *

 _Apologies for the delay,folks. Thank you for all your reviews/favs/follows! Much love to beta squad, always and forever._

 _Twitter: estheryam  
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